every star has its chance to shine
by chasingafterstarlight
Summary: Molly is determined that she doesn't shine, at least as not as bright as her sister Lucy, the famed actress who's got Lorcan Scamander wrapped around her finger. Lysander Scamander is determined to prove this amazing, budding author wrong. MollyLysander


**every star has its chance to shine**

_can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?  
cause I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now_  
**- airplanes, b.o.b**

**Molly/Lysander**

She starts to write at four years old.

Her pen travels across the piece of paper that her father gave her for doodles, forming words far too sophisticated for her four year old vocabulary. Afterwards, she proudly presents it to her father, declaring, "Daddy, I wrote a story."

His eyes widen exponentially as he sees what she's written. To her mother, he calls, "Audrey, I think we've got a budding author on our hands."

He is right, of course. From a young age, Molly always loves writing, no matter what the occasion.

She meets Lysander when she's six, but writing will always be her first love.

…

Fifth year, there's snow on the ground, but Molly chooses not to go outside with all of the 'buffoons'. Instead, she much prefers to sit inside, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and clutching a quill in her right hand. Words flow from her mind to the paper, even though her hand is starting to get tired. She doesn't care much- this is what she enjoys, even the occasional cases of writer's cramp.

Suddenly, someone sits down beside her, peeking over her shoulder at the almost-full paper. "You're going to need another piece of paper, soon."

"Thanks, Lysander," She says sarcastically, not even looking at him. "I never would have guessed." Because, y'know, if there's one things she knows, it's _people_.

"You're welcome, Molls," he replies, and without looking up, she knows he's got that normal, dorky, ecstatic smile upon his face. He's just_ Lysander_ like that. Finally, he speaks again. "What are you writing about?"

Resting her pen upon the paper for a moment, she glances up at him, staring into those deep blue eyes that somehow manage to draw in every girl in the school. Sighing, she gives into his demand. "I'm making up my own fantasy universe, Lysander. And unless you want to help- which I don't suppose you do- I'd love if you would bugger off, please." She manages to say it in her own polite way, which just makes him roll his eyes.

"How can you be so polite, yet so _rude_?" He replies, obviously amused with her. "And how can you just _suppose _that I don't want to help? What if I do want to help you?"

"Well," She says, smiling just a little bit, "You could just tell me, and I might just let you."

"Fine." Lysander bends down on one knee, looking like he's about to propose and sending some sort of a thrill through Molly's insides. Instead, he says, "My dear Molly, I would like to help you with your fantasy universe, or should I say, _our _fantasy universe. Would you please kindly accept my offer?"

Her breath catches in her throat as she stares at him, wide-eyed. Finally, she reminds herself that she has to breathe. "I would appreciate your help, Lysander."

"Good, then," Lysander replies, drumming his fingers on the table and a smile taking over his face. "Shall we get started, then?"

"Why not?" Molly answers.

_So it begins._

_shine your light so I can see it  
_-** SMS (Shine), David Crowder Band**

"I want to be a queen," Molly declares, as if she's five years old and pretending to rule the universe. But no, she's fifteen, tall, and gangly, but she still dreams of ruling the world.

Swerving to look at her, Lysander picks up his pencil from where he had been sketching a stick figure. "A _queen, _Molly? Isn't that what five year olds dream of doing? You're fifteen, already."

"Fifteen year olds can dream of being queen, too," Molly replies haughtily. "I want to be _queen_, Lysander, so write me down as that."

"Fine," Lysander jokes, grinning as he writes down _Molly Weasley, Queen of_. "What should we call our _imaginary land_?"

"Molly-and-Lysander Land?" She suggests sarcastically, rolling her eyes and grinning.

"How about something else?" Lysander grins. "What would we get if we combined our names? Molsander? Lysanly?"

"Molsander is fine, though it sounds like a mole or something," Molly laughs, her blue-green eyes brightening up with happiness.

"_Mole_-sander," Lysander jokes back. "Someone's sanding their mole. Yuck."

"Just write that down," Molly demands of him, pointing at the parchment. "See, we can write all the information down here. _Molsander_, a country that's ruled by Queen Molly. M-o-l-l-y, yes."

"I know how to spell your name, Mols," Lysander glances back up at her, amused. "I've known you for quite a while now."

"Oh." Molly smiles, clearly embarrassed. "I know. I just get carried away sometimes, I suppose."

"It's okay," Lysander replies. "You're cute when you get carried away."

Blushing, she glances down at the hard wood floors of the Gryffindor common room. When _finally_ she looks back up, the faint tinge of red on her cheeks is still there. Quietly, she replies, "Thanks, Lysander, I suppose. Now, who do you want to be? King?"

"Aren't the king and queen usually married?" Lysander asks in admiration at her Gryffindor boldness.

"Yes, but we don't have to be," Molly answers, all business still. For someone with a huge imagination, she's still very one-track minded. "We could be co-rulers instead of… well, married or something."

Grinning, Lysander just nods. "Sounds fine to me."

The snow's still falling, and outside, yells drift up to the open windows, along with giggles and peals of laughter. But for once, neither Molly nor Lysander wishes to join in the fun. Big smiles on both of their faces, they continue to plot their imaginary world, as if someday they could actually apparate there or something. Well, perhaps they could. You never know.

…

It's about then that Lysander starts to fail the newly mandatory Language class. Everyone saw it coming-he never really did anything in that class, ever. He just sits there, book open, mind on other things- the Quidditch game coming up, girls, how long until the class is finally over.

But still, it's quite a shock to him when the teacher announces in front of the class that Lysander needs a tutor. At Hogwarts, not many people receive that _honour_. And if they do, it's not announced to the entire class. Guess Lysander's an exception.

"A tutor?" A bewildered Lysander yells back. His eyes are wide, showing that he believed that this could not be happening to him.

"Yes, Mr. Scamander, a tutor," Her eyes scan the room, searching for a candidate. Finally, her eyes fall onto Molly's poised figure. "Molly Weasley the Second! Would you fancy tutoring this hopeless in the English language boy? In the evenings, one hour per week and of course it'll go on your permanent record. You are the best student out of this group of hopeless Gryffindors."

Zimri Jordan scoffs. "Seriously? I thought we were pretty good."

"Sure, I'll do it," Molly replies softly, her eyes landing upon Lysander's and shooting him a quick smile. Softly, he smiles back.

"All right then," The teacher claps her hands. "7 o'clock in the Gryffindor common room. On to the next subject, please!"

So that's how her Friday nights became booked with Lysander.

But really, they already were.

…

Quill flies across crumpled parchment. Her writing is filled to the tip with imagination, stories of Queen Molly and King Lysander. They aren't married, just co-rulers, though _just maybe_ Queen Molly is in love with King Lysander. But how's she going to show this to Lysander, now?

She realises that it's Friday night and she's all alone in the common room. Her classmates might think her weird for this, but really, she enjoys being alone and just writing, writing, _writing_. Suddenly, her brain registers that there's something she has to be doing tonight, though she can't quite place her finger on _what_. Her Friday nights are usually booked for writing and brainstorming with Lysander… _Lysander_! Yes, that's it. She's supposed to be tutoring him.

Quickly, she glances down at her watch. Cursing, she remembers that during the school year she can't wear her Muggle-like electronic watch. She heads over to see the big clock that looms over the great Gryffindor fire.

"Six fifty-eight," She mutters aloud. Vaguely, she remembers that Lysander's due in the common room in all of two minutes. Unconsciously, she fixes her hair, trying to make herself look pretty. She knows it's a lost cause, but oh well.

The clock keeps ticking, along with the rapid beating of her heart. _Beat, tick, beat, tick_. She's pretty sure she's going insane or something.

Finally, it's 7:05 and she's already lost all hope that Lysander would actually show up. She doesn't even know why she expected him to. It's not like he shows up to any other school function. To her dismay, she realises that she'd internally hoped that because it was her, it would be different to him. Obviously not.

But then, he rushes in, brown hair sideswept across his perfectly symmetrical face. Smiling hugely in an attempt to make it up to her, he quickly says, "Sorry I'm late, Molls! Quidditch practice went overtime, and I _told_ Coach Wood that I had a school thing, but he wouldn't believe me-"

"I wonder why," Molly cuts in wryly, pushing one of her curls back behind her ear. "Anyway, it's fine. Not as if I _expected _you to turn up on time, right?"

"Good," Lysander breathes a sigh of relief. "So, Tutor Molly, what are you going to teach me today?"

"I'm going to teach you about appositives," Molly announces, since that's what they'd been recently learning about. Seeing the confused look on his face, she asks slowly, "You _do_ know what those are, don't you? We've been learning about them for the past few weeks."

Blushing fiercely at being caught, Lysander tells her quietly, "I have no idea. I have no hope in English. I suppose I should spend time sharpening up my Quidditch skills and my Arithmancy, those are the only areas in which I have hope, correct? I don't know why I signed up for this class, anyway. Suppose I just thought it would be easy, since I already speak English and all."

"Don't say that," Molly replies fiercely. "No one's ever beyond hope, Lysander. You have hope in English language, you'll see. Watch, you'll scrape at least an Acceptable on the OWLs. At the very least, an Acceptable, maybe an Exceeds Expectations or even an Outstanding!"

"I'll believe it when I can do it," Lysander smirks, staring at her incredulously.

"Good," She announces proudly. "The first step to winning is believing. All right, let's start. An appositive is extra information that is added to a sentence. For example, if you say, 'Lysander, a boy who is way too skinny, went to the island on holiday', the extra information would be 'a boy who is way too skinny'. It's like that phrase, too much information, you know, TMI. We don't really need to know that you're too skinny, which by the way, you are." Reaching out, she pokes his ribs. "Do you get it?"

"Sort of," Lysander responds, looking like he's actually thinking hard and doing work (for once). "So, if I say: Molly, that girl who's way too smart for her own good, went to the store, the extra information would be 'that girl who's way too smart for her own good' because you don't really need to know that. Even if it is true."

"Exactly," Molly beams at him. "Except I'm _not_ too smart for my own good. I think I'm just smart enough, thank you." She sticks out her tongue at him childishly.

Suddenly, Lysander's eyes light up in that way they always do when he has an idea. She knows because during their brainstorming, she'd seen them light up plenty of times. Not that she was staring at them or anything, she wasn't. At least, that's what she tells herself. Lysander finally speaks, breaking her out of her train of thought. "I have an idea!"

"I know," she mutters, but he doesn't hear her.

He continues on. "How about I read the story that you're writing? The one that we brainstormed for? I mean, your English, especially your writing, is near perfect! It would help me to learn sentence structure, reading comprehension, and other reading skills. Not to mention I probably wouldn't get bored."

"Um, sure," Molly feels her face heating up to epic proportions. "But, I should warn you, some parts are a little weird."

"I don't care," Lysander assures her, taking the stack of pages from out of her hand. Grinning widely, he opens it to the first time.

"What am I supposed to do while you're reading or whatever?" Molly inquires, staring at him again with her wide blue-green eyes.

"You could brainstorm some more." Looking up at her, he hands her the notepad that he'd been using during their sessions. It's the same one she remembers- blue with _Lysander Scamander_ scribbled in his terrible handwriting across the cover _(not that hers is good, either, because it isn't)_. Opening it up to the first page, she's greeted with a crude drawing of two people, crowns atop their heads. She realises soon that it's her and Lysander, or at least the Molsander versions of them. Molly, with her stick-figure body, has _Queen Molly_ scribbled over her head, in handwriting that's not too bad. In contrast, beside her, where a crude drawing of a boy is drawn, the handwriting depicting the words _King Lysander_ is horrible. She has to wonder why.

On the last page, where he's written _More Brainstorming, _she begins to write. She writes down any ideas she has, and then below the word _SPOILER_, she writes a potential ending for the story.

It's not a happy ending, though, because who in real life gets a happy ending?

Suddenly, from beside her, Lysander lets out a snort. "Seriously, Molly? Queen Molly is in love with King Lysander secretly?"

"It's a story," She replies defensively, heart pounding three times faster than it should have been. "I had to add drama to the story, you know, so that the girls would read it too. Do you _really_ think I'm in love with you, Lysander? _Seriously_?"

He seems to ponder over it for a little while, hand resting on his chin. Her heart keeps pounding- _da-dum, da-dum_- and she has to wonder what he's going to reply. Is she really _that_ obvious? Does he really think that she's in love with him? What reasoning does he have?

Finally, he replies, "No, I suppose not. It's just _interesting _that you would write it that way, right? It's really good so far, Molls, you're an amazing writer."

"I don't think so," Molly says, blushing just a little bit. "It's just a whole lot of fun- and addicting, too."

"Hush, now," He tells her, smiling so she can tell that he's kidding. "I have to finish the rest of this story."

But, as she knows, there's not much left to the story, since that was about when she realised that he was supposed to be coming, so she stopped writing. He glances back up. "Molly, you have to finish this! It's amazing. You made our ideas- well, you made them come to life, and I just loved it."

"Thanks, Lysander," She smiles just a little bit. "What do you say we come up with some more ideas?"

"Sure," he replies easily, huge smile across his face.

So that becomes their new tradition- tutoring sessions in which he reads her story, and then they come up with ideas together. It's a lot more fun that way.

_she's almost brighter than the sun  
seems to me to be unfair  
when you consider everyone  
who pales when they compare_  
**- Candlelight, Relient K**

One day, he comes to the Gryffindor common room, shaking and freezing. Tossing him a blanket, she asks, "Get caught in a snow drift or something?"

"Thanks, Molls, you're a lifesaver," He replies gratefully, pulling the blanket around his body, but his shivering doesn't seem to cease. Then, he answers her question. "No, Coach Wood made us practise today. I swear he's gone mad or something. It's **snowing** outside, the last thing we want to do is practise Quidditch. Well, at least we're bound to beat Slytherin- they're probably curled up in thick snow blankets, eating biscuits in their common room. The gits."

"Poor you," Molly sympathises, holding out her notebook. "Are you too cold to read and eat some biscuits, so you can rival the Slytherin team?"

"I'm never too cold to read your writing," He says in that cheesy way of his, smiling and accepting the notebook that she offers to him. "And, of course, I'm never too cold to eat."

Giggling, she passes him the box of cookies. Graciously, he takes one out and begins to munch on it. She also takes one out and gobbles it down quickly, pressing her pen to the paper as he keeps reading. Scribbling down her ideas slowly, she watches him just to gauge his reaction. Or, at least, that's what she tells herself.

She's in deep, isn't she?

Finally, he stops shivering and grins gratefully at her. "Good, looks like I'm warm again. Good job, Molly!"

"No problem," She smiles back, trying not to look at his face, so that her heart won't speed up again or whatever.

"The story's going great, by the way," He tells her. And for the first time, he extends an arm and places it around her back, drawing her close to him. Surprised, she turns to him, mouth wide open and poised to say something, but she has no idea what. She knows that she probably looks as confused as she feels. A little bit red and clearly embarrassed, Lysander quickly explains, "Body heat and all. Thought it might be a good idea, you look freezing, and I know I'm still a bit cold." Even as embarrassed as he looks, he doesn't remove his arm, and she's actually glad for it.

Tilting her head back to her own work, she begins to write again. But her inspiration is somewhere near gone. All she can think about is Lysander's arm that stays poised on the back of her neck, raising goose bumps wherever it brushes.

Oblivious, he continues to read like there's nothing going on. Which really, there isn't, she reminds herself time and time again.

Sighing, she picks up her quill once again, and starts to write down whatever comes to her mind when she thinks of the story. She accidentally writes _MW&LS_ before she glances down and sees what she's done. Letting out a shriek, she quickly picks up her pen to blot it out.

"What is it, Mol?" Lysander peers over her shoulder.

"Nothing." A drop of ink falls onto the paper, and she watches as the black ink consumes the letters, causing them to disappear.

Groaning, she starts to write again.

….

One day, Lorcan comes up to her. For them, it's not necessarily a common occurrence- though Lysander and Molly are pretty close, Lorcan is close to Lucy, not Molly. So they don't _normally_ talk. But this time, Lorcan just saunters up and says, "Hey, Molly."

Molly just peers curiously at him. "Is there something that you need, Lorcan?"

"Do I have to have an excuse to talk to my favourite girl's sister?" Lorcan replies, frowning at her like he's disappointed or something. _Are you kidding_?

"So, you've finally decided to date Lucy then?" Molly replies wryly, staring at Lorcan.

"No," Lorcan answers her slowly. "Just… she's my best friend, and I kind of need to talk to you about something."

"So it is about something, and you _do_ have an excuse?" Molly realises, placing her hands on her hips.

"Yeah," Lorcan sighs."Well, I don't know if you heard or not- you've been sort of ignoring Lucy lately- but she's landed a part in the play _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe._ One of the main parts, in fact. She's playing Lucy Pevensie."

"Lucy Pevensie, hm," Molly nods absently. "So, not to be rude or anything, and no offense to Lucy of course- you know I love her- but why did I need to know that? She gets new parts all the time."

Sadly, it's true. Molly's younger sister, Lucy, is forever showing her up in terms of shining. Every week it's _Lucy this, Lucy that_, _Lucy got another part in a play, Lucy's the lead in a musical, Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy_- and Merlin, when's Molly's chance to shine? Writing isn't really something you _shine_ with- it's just something you do in your spare time, and no one ever hears about it, unless you brag. Which Molly does sometimes, but she always feels bad about it afterward.

Lucy's always been the _shining star_ of the family, and even though she got Prefect, Molly's just the one who sits in the background, pretending she's fine to just watch and write.

Even though she's really not.

So why does Lorcan feel the need to tell her this? It was obvious that Lucy was going to land the role the second she stepped into the room. Really, did he want to rub it in her face or something? _Molly, Lucy's a superstar once again and you're not, you're just plain old Molly._

When will plain old Molly be good enough?

Lorcan just shakes his head. "When are you going to start paying attention to her?"

"Who? Lucy? She gets enough attention already," Molly sighs, staring wistfully at her _(Lysander's)_ discarded notebook that lies under the window.

"Bitter, are we?" Lorcan says, frowning at her. "Anyway, the reason I told you that is because Lucy's bought us tickets. Us as in _me, you, Lysander, Dominique, Scorpius, Rose, _and_ Lily_. And she's especially hoping that you will come, though I can't imagine why. You're sort of indifferent toward her ever since she started landing roles in plays."

"I wonder why," Molly mutters sarcastically, glaring at him for assuming things about her that he doesn't even know. How could he blame it on _her_? But since Lysander's invited, she decides to go. "All right, I'll be there, just to prove you wrong. It's not that I'm indifferent toward her. It's just that some stuff that she does… _ugh. _Never mind. Tell Lucy that I'll be there to watch her in all of her _brilliant glory_."

"Fine, I'll tell her," Lorcan looks just as happy as she feels. _Merlin,_ she thinks, _Lorcan's definitely the more irritating out of the two. He has that way of making people feel guilty when they really haven't done a thing at all._ Frowning over her shoulder at the younger Scamander twin, she stomps away.

_all those rather dreary rainclouds still bother me  
cause I look through the camera eyepiece and cannot see_  
**- Fuzzy Blue Lights, Owl City**

The next day is her regularly scheduled tutoring session with Lysander. During it, she's sitting there more quietly than ever, her face twisted into a scowl and her feet tapping the floor rapidly. _Tap, tap, tap, tap._

"What's got your knickers in a twist, Molls?" Lysander jokes, staring at her in that concerned way of his.

"Lucy, and well, I suppose Lorcan too," Molly sighs. Staring at the window, she sees her _superstar_ sister jumping into a pile of snow with Lorcan, the two of them holding hands. How does her younger sister get a boyfriend before she does? How is _that_ fair? _Life isn't fair, Molly, _she reminds herself.

Lysander just smiles a little bit, showing that he understands. "What did they do this time?"

"Are you going to Lucy's show?" She answers, totally off topic.

"Yes, I am," Lysander stares at her. "Why, are you?"

"Yes, but that's not the point," She heads back to her original topic, and Lysander stares at her in confusion, so she elaborates. "The point is that my superstar sister has stolen yet another part, and here I am, left in the shadows. I'm just wondering when it will finally be my time to shine."

"You do shine, Molly," A confused Lysander replies. "Really, you're the best writer I've ever known, and you're Prefect for our house. You're on a fast track to Head Girl. Plus, one day you're going to become a famous author."

"Someday," Molly groans, kicking at the dust bunnies below her feet."Authors, we never get credit when we're young, unlike actresses. We can never really_ shine _because of our talents, and we never get noticed or anything. And Prefect, Head Girl- they're just titles, Lys. Who cares about that? No one does, really."

"You shine for me, Molly," He tells her quietly. And then, he picks up her story and begins to read it silently, without putting it up for discussion.

Her heart thumps a million times faster than it should be pumping.

But she starts to doodle ideas on the paper now, ideas of a young evil girl who wants to take over. Her name, of course, is Dark Queen Lucy, and her minion's name is Lorcan.

When Lysander finishes, his eyes brighten, as they always do after finishing. "Molly, you do shine, and you've proved that through this story. Why do you need everybody to know that you _shine_ if I know it and you know it?"

"I don't know," Molly pulls a strand of red hair out from behind her ear, nervously rubbing it back and forth between her fingers.

Picking up the notebook, he glances at it and sighs. "Why are you so jealous of Lucy?"

"She's my _sister_, Lysander," She explains, now having moved to fingering the page. "She's my sister and she's beautiful, talented, and everything that I want to be. She even gets the guy she wants while I just watch from the outside. Not to mention I'm expected to be proud of her. She gets everything she wants, that girl, and I just wait in the shadows."

"Lucy's a sweet girl, Molly," Lysander objects. "But, she doesn't get _everything_ she wants."

"What do you mean?" Molly asks, staring up at him.

"Well, I'm just guessing from what I've seen," Lysander informs her, holding up his hands. "But I think that she craves your attention, Molls. Almost as much as you crave the attention she gets."

Nodding, Molly just turns her attention back to the page she's scribbling on. Sighing, she erases the part about the two villains, and Lysander shoots her a big smile.

But she can't help but wonder- since every star burns out sometime, Lucy's fame will burn out too, right?

….

Before Lucy's show, she tries her best to make herself look good. She uses a straightening spell on her curly red hair and puts some make up on her blue green eyes. But still, when she looks in the mirror, all she sees are the typical Weasley 'good looks'. Red hair, freckles, pale skin. How come Lucy gets all the good genes- shiny brown hair, deep blue eyes, and dark skin? Even if she _does_ have freckles too, and glasses.

As she walks outside, she's vaguely aware of the sun that still blazes in the sky as she walks toward the spot where she's set to meet Dominique, Rose, Scorpius, Albus, Lorcan, and Lysander. They're Portkeying together to the theatre.

Once she arrives, she smiles and hugs everyone, but it's so fake and the only one who notices is Lysander. Sighing, he pulls her aside."Don't worry, Molly. Just be happy for once. Try to _forget_."

So she _tries_, really, she does. But when Lorcan stares at her with those accusing blue eyes, she remembers how he takes Lucy's side, and how he _doesn't understand at all_. Her heart falls once again and she sighs, staring at Lysander again.

They all touch the Portkey and her stomach drops again. The sunlight blurs, blurs, _blurs_, along with all of the colours surrounding them, and with a _pop_, they all reappear outside of a theatre. Unprepared, Molly falls to the ground.

"Hey, you okay?" One of Lucy's theatre friends- Arielle, who's playing Susan in the play- peers down at her, and Molly's pleased, because _see_, she knows Lucy's theatre friends. She doesn't neglect Lucy, see? "Molly Weasley! Haven't seen you in a while. Wow, did you just randomly appear or something?"

"No," Molly lies, scrambling to her feet and not telling the truth, since Arielle's a Muggle and she can't tell her the truth. "We've been here for a while. Arielle, right? It's nice to see you again. You remember Lorcan, right?"

"Yeah," Arielle replies with a knowing smile. "Hello, Lorcan. Lucy talks about you all the time."

"Hi, Arielle," Lorcan answers.

"And this is Lorcan's twin, Lysander," Molly continues, motioning to each person in turn. "And these are Lucy's- and my- cousins, Rose, Albus, and Dominique. Then there's Scorpius, the bad boy," Scorpius elbows her playfully, "And I'm assuming you know Lily."

"Nice to meet all of you," Arielle smiles shyly. "And yes, I do know Lily- hey, Lily! Anyway, I have to go get ready. See all of you after the show, I'm assuming? You _are _staying for the show, right?"

"Of course," Lorcan replies before Molly can with her half-hearted mutterings.

They enter the theatre, inside of which a wide banner is declaring the names. At the top of the list, it says, **Starring Lucy Weasley, Arielle Whincop, Pete Thompson, and Ed Pavensy. **Rolling her eyes, she thinks, _Of course Lucy's first. Where else would she be?_

But she doesn't have time to think, because a still-grinning Dominique tugs on her arm, dragging her into the great expanses of the theatre room. Victoire and Teddy are sitting there, Teddy's arm around Victoire. Plopping to Victoire, she realises the red curtains are beckoning to her in that way that inanimate objects sometimes do, and before she knows it, the lights are going down and the show's beginning.

As expected, from the moment Lucy walks on stage, she _shines._ She's playing a character that has the same name as her, Lucy Pevensie, and from what Victoire tells her, looks the same as her, too, with brown hair and big blue eyes. But for once, Molly has little time to dwell on these sort of things.

The show, as expected, is _amazing._ To Molly's surprise, it's about a fantasy universe, much the same as Molsander (_and from down the aisle, Lysander shoots her a wink, and she tries to pretend that her heart doesn't skip a beat)._ The magical creatures that populate the world are beyond the realms of her wide imagination- fauns, fairies, witches, talking beavers, magical lions. The characters are portrayed realistically. None of them, to Molly's relief, are perfect like she craves to be. Edmund, the traitor, Peter, the disbeliever, Susan, the bossy, Lucy, the naïve.

Not to mention the chemistry between the actors was beyond belief, especially the chemistry between Lucy and Edmund, or Lucy and Ed. The way they fought was _oh-so-realistic_. Plus the way Ed Pavensy (_coincidence? She thinks not)_ portrays Edmund is so realistic that it's believable.

Glancing down the aisle once, trying to tear herself away from the world of Narnia and back into the world of her own, she sees two jealous-looking boys- Lorcan, jealous of the way that Lucy interacts with this _Ed _boy, and Teddy, who's jealous of the way Victoire is staring at Pete. Then Dominique pokes her shoulder, pointing at Scorpius, who's put his arm around Rose. Smiling, Molly nods and turns her attention back to the show.

By the time it's over, Molly's in love with the play, which gave her so many ideas for her own fantasy universe. But when she leaves, Lysander still by her side, she runs into Lucy. Forcing a smile, she tells her slowly, "Hi, Lucy."

"Molly!" Lucy exclaims happily, pulling her older sister into a hug. "I'm so glad you came! Did you enjoy the show?"

"Yeah," Molly gives a non-committal grunt, because really, Lucy doesn't need any more praise than she's going to get. "It was good. Good job, Luce."

And then she walks away, leaving a crestfallen Lucy behind her.

What Lucy doesn't know is how inspired Molly was by her show.

_when I start to climb up  
will you pull my line up  
or am I just in the way?  
I think about it every single day_

**Nothing Left to Show, Hawk Nelson**

The overly enthusiastic Arielle arranges a driver for them to get home. Since they can't really say no at risk of looking suspicious, the driver agrees to take them to a random street, where they will Portkey back to the gates of Hogwarts. Then someone will let them in from there.

Lysander, being the boy he is, falls asleep within a five minute period. When he's been asleep for a few minutes, Dominique turns to Molly. "So, what's going on with you and Lysander?"

"What do you mean?" Molly asks innocently, staring at Dominique like _she's _the insane one.

"You spend, like, every waking moment together," Dominique laughs, smile still on her face.

"So? A girl and a boy can't be best friends without having to be something _more_? What about Lucy and Lorcan?" Molly contradicts, giving her cousin a sharp stare.

"No," Dominique giggles. She's so obviously remembering something. "Remember how we were _so_ sure that Lucy and Lorcan were dating? We plotted to find out that how they got together and all, so don't dare pull that one on me, Molly Grace Weasley. I know _you_, and I know Lysander. You two are my best friends most of the time, remember? Well, when I'm not picking on Scorp over there. But anyway. Something is going on, and I'm bound to find out what it is sometime. So you might as well tell me now."

"Fine," Molly frowns. "I like Lysander, and he doesn't feel the same around me. Well, at least I think I like him. Is that what it is when your heart skips a beat whenever he talks to you or touches you or _anything_?"

Grinning from ear to ear, Dominique responds, "Looks like you've got it bad, girl. Well, I'm pretty sure he feels the same about you. What lad would spend all of his time with a girl he doesn't like?"

"Well, he's being forced to spend time with me some of the time," Molly confesses. "You heard, right?- Oh, you're not in our English Language class. He's being forced to be tutored by me on Friday nights."

"Oh," Dominique nods in understanding. "But you spent your Friday nights together before that."

"Just brainstorming and stuff," Molly sighs. "Nothing romantic, Dom. Well, he put his arm around me once, but I don't suppose that counts, does it?"

Dominique shoots up, big blue eyes wide. "He put his arm around you? That's big, cousin. How many girls do you see Lys here putting his arm around? None, right? None except _you_. That's got to count for something!"

"He wouldn't like me, Dom," Molly responds quickly. "He needs a girl with _sparkle, glimmer, shine_, you know? I don't _shine._ I'm just plain old Molly, so really, he wouldn't like me."

"You do shine, Molly!" Her well-meaning cousin responds quickly. "You're a great person, funny, talkative, friendly, _and _a good writer. You shine just as much as anyone. I'm _sure_."

"I don't think so, Dom," Molly refutes her cousin's statement, cheeks turning red (_so maybe she can __**flame **__in that way)_. "Anyway, how about we change the subject? What's going on with you and Scorpius?"

"Nothing," Dominique answers mournfully. "We're both Slytherins and everything, but he doesn't talk to me that much anymore. And when he does, it's all about Rose. _What does Rose like? What is Rose like? Come on, you should know, she's your cousin, for Merlin's sake._ He likes Rose, they're basically perfect together, and that's that."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Molly answers in sympathy.

For the rest of the short ride, they sit there quietly, mourning their bad luck in love and such.

…

That night, once she finally arrives back at Hogwarts, she doesn't head straight to her dorm room like Lily. Instead, she sits on the couch, listening to Rose recount her night and gush about Scorpius in that funny way of hers (_don't get her wrong, she loves Rose to death, and has no problem listening to her)._ But once Rose heads up to bed, wishing her a good night, she gets straight to work on her story.

Some of the ideas (like a magical passageway to the world) come straight from Narnia, others are barely influenced by the play she's just seen. New creatures are invented, new places within the world- but before she knows it, it's nearly one AM, and she has to head up to bed.

But that night, when she dreams, she dreams of the same actors putting on her story as a play.

She doesn't play herself- no, Lucy in a flaming red wig plays Queen Molly instead. And though, in her dream, she's a bit disappointed, the play still goes amazingly. However, at the end of the play, there's a great kiss between Molly/Lucy and Lysander, who's played by the Ed kid. So she's confused- she'd never written in a kiss before.

She _has _to stop letting her imagination run away with her.

But that's when dreams of her story as a play like the one she's just seen enter her mind, and they don't seem to leave. It'll never happen, she knows- she doesn't _shine_ enough to be noticed, so her story won't shine either.

But she can still dream, right?

…

At the next tutoring session she has with Lysander, after she tutors him on _gerunds_ and what they do in sentences (_and she's __**sure**__ he understands)_, she hands him the newly updated notebook. Grinning, he tells her, "Sure it'll be amazing, as always," and begins to read.

But there's something different, something _off_, about him today. It's like there's something on his mind that he wants to tell her but he's holding back in fear. It's strange, coming from him- he's usually never afraid to tell anyone what's on his mind.

She takes his notebook and flips to the last page. There's nothing unusual there (_not that he'd write it, whatever it is, down in a notebook- that's so girly)_. Instead, there are just crude drawings of stick figures riding around on broomsticks _(the usual, for him_). Below it, he's written in big block letters, "QUIDDITCH GAME VERSUS SLYTHERIN!" Then there's a picture of a lion eating a snake, the Gryffindor mascot eating the Slytherin mascot.

Smiling at his one-track boy mind, she flips to another page and begins to write down ideas, not giving a second thought about the Quidditch game. But when he finishes reading, he clears his throat, another thing uncharacteristic of Lysander. "Um, Molly? Well, this chapter was just _amazing_, even better than the others- not that they weren't good, too, this was just like _maximum amazingness. _But I, um, I have a favour to ask you. It doesn't really have anything to do with the story, more about me personally, but I'm hoping you'll say yes."

Her heart starts pounding fast again and, remembering her conversation with Dominique, she curses herself mentally. Smiling at him but still nervous about what he's going to ask, she replies, "Sure, what is it, Lys?"

"You know how we have a Quidditch game against Slytherin tomorrow?" Lysander asks slowly, watching her as if to gauge her reaction.

_Oh no, he can't be asking me to go to the Quidditch game_, Molly panics. _Calm down, Molls, maybe he's asking you to the after party as his date or something_. Still smiling on the outside, she answers, "Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, I know you're not much for Quidditch and all," He hesitates, and she nods, encouraging him to go on. "But I was wondering if you could _just_ come to this one. You know, to support me, James, and Louis, if no one else on the tea. Plus, Dominique is MC- ing, that should be interesting, since half of the Gryffindor team is her family- well, not really- and she's in Slytherin. Anyway," he takes a deep breath. "Would you consider coming, Molls?"

_Oh, no_. She inhales deeply. Molly's always really loathed Quidditch- she and her cousin, Rose, find it the most boring sport in the world. However, this is _Lysander_ who's inviting her, and Dom's MC-ing, so she should go to (_at the very least_) support Dominique. Not to mention she would also be supporting James (who would be beyond pleased, since he's Captain) and Louis. Her decision becomes obvious. "Fine, I'll go."

'Yes!" Lysander grins, pleased. "You know, Lorcan wouldn't believe that you would come, but I suppose we showed him, didn't we?"

"Yes," Molly replies, quite pleased at showing Lorcan up. "Yes, I'll say we did."

_breathe, and I'll carry you away  
into the velvet sky  
and we'll stir the stars around  
and watch them fall away_

**On the Wing, Owl City**

So that's how Molly Weasley ended up sitting in the Gryffindor bleachers at the big Gryffindor versus Slytherin match. Though she wasn't very enthusiastic, per se, she'd at least thought to wear her school colours, and let down her long red curls for once for all to see.

Someone stands beside her. "Wow, you actually came. Surprise, surprise."

"Go away, Lorcan," Molly scowls. "I'm trying to actually watch the game, which you don't think me capable of doing."

"I was going to ask if Luce and I could sit with you, but never mind then," Lorcan backs off, returning to his _oh-so-precious _Lucy.

Trying not to let him make her feel guilty, Molly returns her attention back to the game. Suddenly, someone plops down beside her. "Hey, Molly."

"Natalie!" Molly plasters on a smile.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Molly," Natalie smiles. "But then again, you've been spending time with Lysander, haven't you?"

"I suppose," Molly shrugs uncomfortably, still smiling though. "Had any luck with Louis yet?"

"Sort of," Natalie sighs. Both of them turn their attention back to the game, where Slytherin has just scored. Dominique throws her microphone into the air, screaming in happiness. When she catches it again, Molly catches James shoot her a glare. Into the microphone, Dominique says, "Sorry, James. Sorry for being excited for my own team." She sits down again.

Molly has to laugh at that. For once, she's feeling a bit happy. And it's at a _Quidditch Game_- is she going mad or something? Maybe she should put something like that in her story. Taking out her notepad, she jots that down.

Natalie peers curiously over her shoulder. "What's that?"

"A notepad," Molly explains. "I write down stuff for my stories in here."

Natalie's eyes sparkle in excitement. "Ooh, you're a writer? That's so cool!"

"Thanks, I wish everyone thought that," Molly grins, looking back at the game.

Gryffindor scores next. Molly and Natalie _(though she's a Ravenclaw_) stand up and cheer for Louis, who's just scored. Lysander, the Seeker, is still zooming around, looking for the Snitch.

Rose and Albus come up then, bending down as not to disrupt the crowd. "Hey, Molly, Natalie," Rose whispers. "Who just scored?"

"Gryffindor," Molly replies.

Both of them cheer loudly, then Albus bends down. "Mind if we sit here?"

"Why not?" Molly answers. "And Albus, why are you cheering? It's Gryffindor, and you're Slytherin."

Albus blushes. "My brother. He told me I have to cheer for Gryffindor or I'll be the family traitor or something like that."

Rose stares quizzically at him. "And you _believed _him?"

"That's not important," Albus blushes. "Let's just watch the game, eh?"

"Fine," Molly agrees. The game goes like this- _Gryffindor scores, Slytherin scores, Gryffindor scores, Slytherin scores_- over and over and over again. It's some sort of cycle, and it doesn't seem to be getting broken anytime soon. All of the fans are on the edge of their seat. The only way either team can win would be catching the Snitch, at this point. Which means that it's up to Lysander and Scorpius to battle it out. Oh, great.

"So, who are you rooting for?" Molly grins evilly. "Scorpius or your own house.

Natalie and Albus snort. Rose just blushes. "I don't know. And I suppose you're rooting for _Lysander_?"

"Yes, I am, because he's in Gryffindor," Molly replies haughtily. Now all three of the others just snort, not believing her, when really they shouldn't. Rolling her blue-green eyes, she turns back to the game.

"THE SNITCH HAS APPEARED!" Dominique screams. Her words prove to be true- a golden ball swoops through the Quidditch field. At the same time, Lysander and Scorpius rush to it.

For a few seconds then, Molly couldn't see. They're moving too fast to be seen by anyone. The next few seconds are flashes of gold and flailing limbs. Then, Lysander emerges, Golden Snitch in his left hand.

"Gryffindor wins," Dominique mutters, looking defeated. In one fluid motion, all of the Gryffindor team runs out, tackling him in a huge hug. Rose, Natalie, and Molly all jump up screaming, and even Albus cheers a little bit. Molly rushes to the field to congratulate him.

"Hey, Molly," Lysander says, pulling her into a big hug. She breathes in the scent of him, all cinnamon and shaving gel. He smells nice.

"Hey, Lysander," She answers, feeling a little bit sad. "Suppose you've gotten your turn to shine, haven't you?"

"Yours will come eventually, don't worry," Lysander tells her. But then he's dragged away from her by the roaring Gryffindor and friends crowd, and how is she supposed to believe him? She's just a good for nothing writer.

Slumping, she turns and heads back to the Gryffindor common room for the after party she knows will be happening. But she's not going as anyone's date, no, because she's just plain old Molly. And no wonder what Lysander and Dominique say, she doesn't _shine, _or _sparkle, _or _glimmer_.

The after party is filled with people _shining _with their talents. Then, in the middle of it, they encourage Lysander to make a speech. Nervously, he climbs up on top of the chair they have provided him, and starts to ramble on about teamwork and how they all worked together to get here. He also rambles about how much he loves the team and the school.

And then, once he steps down, some girl's lips crash down onto his. Horrified, she flees, tears already starting to run down her face (_no, Molly, you don't cry!_) but it's too late for her to do anything, now.

It never was her. She shouldn't have been fooled. There was always some other girl involved in their fantasy universe. Unlike her, he was never living completely in the fantasy universe- he still had a life outside of it. All of those Quidditch practices, he probably wasn't playing Quidditch the whole time. Even Coach Wood wouldn't work them that hard. He was seeing someone else too.

It wasn't like he had been cheating on her; they'd never been officially dating. It wasn't his fault at all- it was _hers_. She'd deluded herself.

Though Lysander said she shines, she's never been able to _shine_ bright enough for him.

…

Late that night, she tries to write, as usual. But the words won't flow from her head to the paper. It seems that along with Lysander, she's lost her muse.

But, she realises as she slowly sets down the pen, what's the point in writing anyway? She's just all but lost her biggest fan, and really, she doesn't shine anyway. She's just a little girl that doesn't mean a thing to anyone. She's not _sparkle, shimmer, and shine_ like all of the other girls.

Head in her hands, she starts to cry again.

What's wrong with her? _Molly Weasley doesn't behave this way, does she? _ She's a strong girl, well, most of the time.

But now she's just broken, and she's not a writer any more. She has no identity.

Her fantasy universe has finally been destroyed, since the king has crossed over completely and married an evil queen. It's time for her to give it up.

She'll never really be a queen.

_Is anybody out there? Hello, hello!  
Broken hearts like promises are left for lesser knowns_  
- **Hello Alone, Anberlin**

Sunday is the next day; so thankfully, she's not forced to go to classes. Instead, she just sits in the Gryffindor common room in complete solitude. There's nothing for her to do anymore- she can't write, won't write, doesn't write. Instead, she just sits, head hung in her hands.

Suddenly, someone enters the room. She's surprised- that person isn't even a Gryffindor. It's a Ravenclaw, her baby sister, Lucy Weasley. Lucy just stares at her, obviously surprised. "Molly! I was hoping to find you here, but not like this. What's wrong?"

"Lysander," She chokes out, trying not to cry or anything, cause that just makes everything worse.

"Oh, you saw him yesterday at the after-party," Lucy replies sympathetically. "Lorcan told me- I didn't go, but he was allowed to be there because of Lys. Anyway, it probably didn't mean anything. She kissed him, right?"

"Yeah," Molly replies, wondering why Lucy is coming to talk to her like this. She never would have done the same for Lucy- and suddenly, she feels guilty. Maybe Lorcan was right. The very thought brings bile to her throat. "I hope."

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" Lucy asks sympathetically.

"What? No!" Molly splutters, trying to convince herself she isn't lying, because she _so isn't_. Of course she's not _in love _with him- love is such a strong term and she's so, so young. "Of course not! I just… I just like him, that's all."

"Sure you do," Lucy just smiles again, trying to pretend she doesn't know that Molly's lying. "Anyway, I promised Lorcan I'd meet him.."

"Before you go," Molly tells her desperately, "I just want you to know that you're an amazing actress, probably the best I've ever known, and your play was just… one of the best I've ever seen. It intrigued me so."

"Really?" Lucy's eyes brighten.

"Of course," Molly replies warmly, though there's still a certain heaviness on her chest. "Would I lie to you?"

"Thanks, Molly!" Lucy exclaims, all bright and happy and _shiny_ this time. "You're an amazing writer, too, and I love all of your stuff! Written anything new?"

"No," Molly sighs, not wanting to admit the truth. "Lucy, I've given up writing."

Lucy's blue eyes widen in shock. "Why would you do that?"

"My fantasy universe is over, Luce," Molly sighs. "It's time for me to start facing real life."

…

The rest of the week passes by like this: Molly stops talking to Lysander, he wonders why, gets hurt, and stops talking to her too. The first person to intervene is surprisingly not Dominique. No, it's Molly's little ball of fire, constantly intervening cousin Lily Luna Potter.

Hands on her hips, she announces, "You two need to talk. Like, _right now_. Because I'm getting tired of this running away and never talking stuff. You two were the best of friends and you're going to let something silly ruin it. So talk NOW."

Clapping her hands like she's just saved the world or something, Lily walks off. Lysander's the first to talk, and his voice is sort of accusing. "Why have you stopped talking to me?"

"I think you know why." Molly's voice is deadly, sort of.

"Because Merilyn kissed me, Molly?" Lysander wonders, his voice a bit softer. "That's a stupid reason, no offense. She kissed _me_. I had nothing to do with it."

"Doesn't matter, Lysander," Molly answers, still glaring at him just a bit. "I knew you'd eventually go for girls that are all _shimmer, sparkle, and shine._ I knew you didn't like the plain Jane girls. And I'm never going to be a shiny girl, because I'll never get credit for the things that I can do."

Lysander stares at her. "What are you talking about?"

"I've quit writing, Lysander," Molly replies, frowning and biting her lip so that she doesn't cry again. "I hope you're happy."

"WHAT?" He yells, like he's surprised. But she just shakes her head, turns, and walks away.

_Why should he care anyway? He should be happy. This is what he wanted all along, right_? She thinks.

_Right?_

_I'm still waiting for you to be the one I'm waiting for_  
- **The One I'm Waiting For, Relient K**

After her meeting with Lysander, she goes straight to sleep, because there's nothing worth staying awake for. She just wants to stay there and sleep.

When she wakes up, she gets ready for class, same as usual. But when she gets to class, there's something **different**. Everyone is staring at her for some reason. Finally, someone speaks up. It's Natalie, once again. "Molly! You're such a good writer!"

That leads to a bombard of comments from all over the classroom. "When are you going to finish your story? Molly, are you going to get published someday? Can you write me a story? Can you give your story a happy ending?"

"HOLD UP," Molly yells, looking terrified. "What is this all about?"

"You didn't know, Molly?" Mary Alice, another Gryffindor girl, wonders. "Your story that Lysander gave you ideas for or whatever… it's being circulated all around the school. You're sort of famous."

Leaning down, Molly pinches herself to see if she's dreaming. When it hurts, her face lights up, because maybe now she can _sparkle, shimmer, and shine._

…

The day passes by in a flurry of compliments from people and people asking when she will finish it. She promises that it will be finished soon to every person, vowing once again to pick back up her writing because really, she hadn't realised it was _that_ good. One cute little first year named Alissa Creevey even asks for her autograph. Really, she wasn't so selfish to ask for all of this. But that didn't mean she wasn't enjoying it. Was Lucy's life like this all of the time?

And then she runs into Lysander.

"You did all of this?" she inquires.

"I told you you'd get your chance to shine, Molly," He tells her, big grin upon his goofy face. And then, as if it's a gift or something, he leans in and plants a kiss on her lips.

She thinks that this must be part of the amazing dream that has _oh so suddenly _become her life, because only in her dreams does Lysander Scamander kiss her. Having no idea what to do, she leans in just a little bit more before he finally pulls away, grinning at her. "Believe I don't like _Merilyn Goyle_ yet?" He says the other girl's name as if it's poison, and she grins.

"I'm pretty sure you don't," Molly grins, still almost two inches from his face.

Then a camera flash all but stuns her, and there's Alissa Creevey's older sister Etta, the photographer for the school paper, and Jana Skeeter, the head reporter. Jana grins."This is _so_ front page news. Quidditch star and writing ace getting together. Merlin, I reckon we'll sell hundreds of copies this week."

"And I got perfect pictures!" Etta announces, smiling evilly and holding up her wizarding insta-camera.

Lysander just groans, and so does Molly, because really, there's nothing they can do.

_Oh, the price of fame._

_am I crazy or falling in love?  
is this really just another crush?_

**Crush, David Archuleta**

That night, after a full day of being famous, Molly sits down in the Gryffindor common room for some alone time. Too bad she's immediately swarmed by a crowd of first years.

That's about when Lily comes busting in. "Leave her alone, guys, or she won't be able to finish the story. I mean, every story needs a happy ending."

"Yeah!" a round-faced girl whose name is Lynn Peters. "Write the ending, Molly!"

"But you all have to leave me alone, and I promise I will," Molly promises sincerely. Inspiration is bursting out of her now.

Finally, all the first years reluctantly trudge back up their respective stairs. Lily sits down beside Molly, saying, "I promise I'll leave you alone soon, but I have a question. You and Lysander are together now?"

"Yes," Molly says, her head filled with memories of _the kiss_ or whatever it was called. "Why?"

Lily smiles brightly. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not in love with Lysander or anything. Good night."

Waving happily, she grins as she walks up the stairs. Once she reaches the top, she yells back down, "DAWSON NOTT ASKED ME OUT!"

"I'm happy for you!" Molly calls back up. "But I reckon your brothers will be a bit upset."

Lily cackles. "You think? Well, good night!"

"Good night," Molly yells. Then she takes out her notebook, which by now has been copied and spread all over the school, but still looks the same as she saw it last, what with the tearstains on the paper and such. Grinning, she picks up her quill and begins to write.

Before, she thought of making a horrible ending, where everyone dies or something like that. But now, she realises that happy endings are possible. So she writes a happy ending for her story for everyone, because _maybe happy endings are better_.

_(because she's just gotten her happy ending, finally_)

But then she realises that maybe there's one more thing that she has to do for somebody.

…

"LUCY!" Molly yells across the corridor, breaking into a sprint to catch up with someone. "LUCY! Wait up!"

Lucy Weasley stops from where she's walking with Lorcan and Lily. Grinning, Lily's the first to figure out what Molly's trying to do. Grabbing Lorcan's arm, she tells him, "Lorcan, I forgot my bag in the room. Come with me to get it?"

"Um," Lorcan glances at Lucy.

"She'll be fine, Molly's here," Lily beams at Molly to show that she knows. Molly grins back in thanks. Tugging on Lorcan's arm, she tells him, "_Come on_, Lorcan."

Finally, Lorcan relents and lets Lily drag him off. Molly turns to Lucy. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"I got that much," Lucy answers, clearly amused.

"Well," Molly lets out a breath. "You know how you did that play, _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_?"

"Obviously," Lucy responds, staring at her.

"I was wondering if you could round up the old crew because you all were _amazing _together, and put on a play of my story," Molly says quickly. "You don't have to do it for me- I'm not looking for more fame- but I would _love_ to see it in person, and, well, you all are the perfect ones to do it. You don't have to do it, but I don't know, it would just be _so, _so wonderful-"

"Molly," Lucy interrupts, smiling in that amused way of hers. "We'll do it. Just stop rambling, all right?"

"YES!" Molly rejoices, throwing her arms around her little sister.

_you got me feelin' so fly  
there ain't a day that goes by  
a supernatural high_

**Feelin' So Fly, tobyMac**

So that's how, six months later, they end up sitting in the theatre, waiting for the performance to start.

"I can't believe I'm here," Molly keeps saying over and over. "I just can't believe this is actually happening. I'm so happy!"

Lysander just chuckles. "You've said that around a million times now. I know you're happy, Molls, but calm down or you'll hyperventilate during the performance." Leaning over, he plants a kiss on her cheek.

"All right," Molly agrees. "I'll try to relax."

And she does try. But once Lucy walks on the stage as Queen Molly and the story begins, she finds herself on the edge of her seat. Everything they do is flawless, and it certainly makes the story comes straight from the pages of her book into real life. By the end of the play, she's almost in tears. Lysander squeezes her hand.

It's then and there that she realises that fantasy universes always exist in your imagination, and maybe dreams do come true.

The play ends with a flawless kiss between Lucy (Queen Molly) and Ed (King Lysander). Grinning, Lysander leans over and kisses her quickly. Then, when she glances down the aisle, she notices Lorcan's fist balled up tightly, and an angry look upon his face. Scorpius is in the middle of Rose and Dominique; they're both holding his hands.

Then the curtains fall, and the show's over, or so she thinks. But then Lucy comes back on stage, smiling widely.

"I would like to thank the writer of this great play," Lucy announces, grinning from ear to ear. "Molly Weasley, would you please come up here?"

The announcement of her name is followed by applause. Into the microphone, Lucy says, "She's an amazing writer, no matter what she thinks."

Molly just laughs. Grabbing the microphone, she holds up a bouquet of flowers."And these are for the best actress in the world, my sister, Lucy."

Lucy blushes and wraps her sister in a tight hug as the flowers are given to her. "You're terrific, Molls."

"And you were the best actress up there, I'm serious," Molly whispers to her. "Thank you_ so _much for doing this for me. It was just amazing. And, hey, thanks for loving me when I didn't even deserve it."

And finally, it's her chance to _shine_, but she decides to step out and let Lucy take the spotlight. Because, hey, she deserves it.

After the show, Lorcan pulls her aside. "You know, Molly, you're not as bad as I thought you were."

"Thanks, Lorcan," She replies, rolling her eyes. "Same to you."

Then Lysander puts his arm around her neck and they walk out, ready to face the world.

…

Two months later, when they finally receive their OWL results, Lysander comes over immediately. "How many OWLs did you get?"

"Eight, and an Outstanding in Language," Molly grins, since that's the necessary one for her chosen career. "And you?"

"I got an Exceeds Expectations in language, and _five OWLs_!" Lysander exclaims. Grinning, she throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around her waist.

"I knew you would," She mutters into the safety of his chest.

"It's all because of my brilliant teacher," Lysander whispers, and then his lips are on hers again.

"Good job, King Lysander," She murmurs.

"Thanks so much, Queen Molly," he replies, pulling her a little bit closer to him.

And yes, this is the way things should always be. Finally, it's their happily-ever-after.

**A/N: YES, I ACTUALLY DID IT! A 10K MollyLysander! I am proud of myself.**

**Well, this is dedicated to RoseScor90 and ListenAndBelieve, because they are awesome-sauce MollyLys supporters. Also a **_**little**_** to renzhie and Sidsaid, because they are both also great MollyLys supporters that encouraged me a lot!**

**I hope you enjoyed this, and it wasn't too confusing or anything. But it was really long ;) **

**Thanks for reading, and PLEASE review! **_**(if you took the time to read this, you sure have time to review!)**_


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